


Confess My Love

by Ruunkur



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruunkur/pseuds/Ruunkur
Summary: The itch nags at you every moment, reminding you that you are not who you think you are.





	Confess My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written to "Church" by Fallout Boy
> 
> Another quick fic done at work.

His gaze is cold, the knowledge running through his mind.

His fingers tap against the table top, keeping track of the minutes as close as he could. It couldn’t have been longer than twenty before the door to the holding room opened, letting in a blast of air conditioned air.

He opened his eyes, resting his hand flat against the table. “Have you come to charge me, detective?” he asked, voice sounding like a wind on a cool summer’s eve.

The blond haired man straightened, his knuckles going white on the case file he held. “What do you think you should be charged with, Ichijouji?” he demanded, moving to sit in the chair across from the man.

Ken leaned back, allowing the smallest of smiles to cross his features. “I wouldn’t have the faintest clue.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, placing the folder on the table. “What happened to you, Ken?”

There was an itch under his skin, one that Ken hadn’t been able to ease in years. The itch that reminded him that this was not right. The world that he walked was not the one that he belonged in.

He could smile and play the part, be the master thief as he held the role of loving husband and father. His children, though he couldn’t recall their births.

So much of his own mind, gone from his grasp and nothing to ease the itch.

“You think I killed Miyako.”

The words were cold when they left his mouth, Ken quirking up the corner of it in the ghost of a smile. 

The detective recoiled at the ease in which he spoke and Ken wanted to laugh, to call him a fool.

“I would like to remind you that, if I had, I would have been smarter than to be found with blood on her hands.

_The blood was still warm when he came to, and he was kneeling it it, his hands placed over the stab wound, the knife missing from the scene._

_He had been walking through the door when he heard a cry. He wasn’t sure if it was the door to his own mind, or the door to his apartment. But, he had only remembered walking through the door and the warmth of the blood._

_He had ordered one of the children -even now, he couldn’t quite grasp what their names were, one of his many failings as a father, he supposed- to call the police and an ambulance. When they had arrived, Ichijouji Miyako was pronounced dead on the scene, the murder weapon missing and Ken the only suspect._

The blood had alleviated the itch that was laying under Ken’s skin every single second of the day.

“You were home late from work that day.”

Ken nodded, crossing his arms on the table to hide the twitch his fingers insisted on presenting. “I had a dinner with a coworker. We were discussing the benefits of hiring a second secretary. We ate at Motomiya’s restaurant.”

“Which places you getting home just a few minutes after the killer left the apartment. You would have passed them on the stairs or in the elevator.”

“Anyone who knows me knows I make a habit of using the stairs. And, as I said that night, there had been no one on the stairs.”

_He had watched his coworker laugh, knocking back a shot of alcohol. There was a grin on his face, his blue eyes twinkling in the light. THey had talked about many things that meandered outside of the realm of work, but Ken didn’t know that._

_He didn’t remember what he knew, only that the coworker asked if he got home alright._

“What is the name of your coworker?”

“Takaishi Takeru.”

_Blond hair, usually kept slicked back, but losing the gel. After a shower, it tumbled around his head and ears, making Ken want to run his hands through it._

_He knew that Ken was married, that he had children._

_But he was a man that understood the itch that crawled under his skin. He mentioned something as much to Ken, once. The itch that wouldn’t go away, no matter what he did. No matter how hot the water was when he showered._

_He helped make the itch go away._

“And what is your relationship to Mr. Takaishi?”

“We’re business partners. We run a law firm together. We take different practices, of course.”

“And the law that you practice?” The detective's voice was firm and Ken could see the depths behind those amber eyes.

“”What did you say that your last name was?” Ken asked, glancing down. He didn’t wear any tags to identify himself, but he wanted to be sure.

“Hida.”

Ken nodded, asserting himself back into the conversation. “Right, I practice Criminal Law. Helping those that have been wronged.”

“So you understand the charges that are being held against you?”

“Murder of my wife, committed before I returned home. Your basis is that I was found with her blood on my hands, from trying to staunch the wounds before the ambulance arrived. There was no murder weapon found at the scene.”

The simple facts, that he could do.

“Are you having an affair, Ichijouji?”

_Blond hair, threaded through his fingers before he tightened his grip, a moaning from under him. The man pleading for more._

_The next day, neither of them acting as if they hadn’t just fucked behind closed doors. A conversation, explanation. Both having an uncomfortable talk. Ken, speaking to Miyako about the situation and the itch growing worse._

_But, her agreeing. Her eyes just a little distant, but there was understanding there._

_And them, easily slipping into the new roles of their relationships. Open communications flowing between them, all parties in agreement._

“I don’t believe I am. My wife knew that I was seeing Mr. Takaishi.”

“Your business partner?”

“Yes, my business partner. We were in an open and consenting relationship. While Mr. Takaishi never came to my home, as per the agreement, MIyako knew and understood.”

“And if I were to ask Mr. Takaishi and he denied it?”

“Then perhaps I am putting too much hope into Takeru. I have a therapist I see, by the name of Yagami Hikari.”

 

As Ken walked the questions back and forth with Hida, he could tell the detective was becoming increasingly frustrated. They had already verified his relationship with Takeru, and his wife had notes of when they would be together, and when Ken had planned dates with Takeru.

He couldn’t remember telling her when these dates were supposed to happen.

And the longer they talked, the longer this dragged out, the more frustrating the itch became.

When he was released, it was into the watchful gaze of one Takaishi Takeru.

The murder of Ichijouji Miyako went unsolved.

The children were okay, though they were sad as the funeral rolled by.

It was quiet and the murder went unsolved, though Ken was cleared of the accusation.

Only in the quietest of nights, when the itch under his skin reminded him that he didn’t belong, did Ken allow himself to think of that night.

Rushing home, finding someone standing in the window before they jumped. Turning to the kitchen and seeing Miyako standing there, eyes wide. The knife in her trembling hand.

Ken, rushing forward and _knowing_ that removing the knife was a terrible idea, but yanking it out anyway. The blood, coming faster and faster.

Him, whispering prayers and anything he could think of.

And nothing, nothing helping but the itch disappearing as the blood drenched him.

And the fear.

The fear that the figure he had seen in the window had been himself, from another time.


End file.
